


Red

by unquenchable_flame



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: 50 Sentences, Addiction, F/F, Implied Sexual Content, Jealousy, Mentions of Death, cursing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2017-10-11
Packaged: 2019-01-15 22:08:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12329841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unquenchable_flame/pseuds/unquenchable_flame
Summary: 50 one sentence microfics for Hawkedith.





	Red

**Author's Note:**

> Part of a 50 sentences challenge, where many of them aren't actually one sentence, but I can live with that.
> 
> No particular order in these, definitely not chronological, one Modern AU and one 'Hawke is taken to the Gallows' AU.
> 
> Warning: Run on sentences, Death mention, Lyrium addiction mention, bondage mention, blood mention, non-explicit adult themes, too much punctuation. If you think any other warning is needed, please message me and I'll update it.

#01 – Comfort  
There was something comfortable in Meredith’s morning rituals, offering her day to the Maker, grooming, cleaning, maintaining, donning her plate and becoming her entire self.

#02 – Kiss  
Hawke was free with her affections, kissed heads, elves, cheeks, captains, thighs, hands and dwarves, but never the displeased mouth that berated her in one breath and craved for her in the next.

#03 – Soft  
Half of Hawke’s speech was composed by sarcasm and witty retorts, but the one time she doesn’t mean to make a quip Meredith chuckles softly, her eyes gleaming with mirth, and Hawke’s heart skips a beat or three, go figure…

#04 – Pain  
Meredith had had only enough time to name Hawke the new Champion of Kirkwall before the woman gave in to the pain and crumpled, which was good in hindsight – it was much easier to turn a blind eye to someone being carried away half dead, all her mana converging in healing energy, than to a gloating cheeky apostate. 

#05 – Potatoes  
Hawke knew Meredith was in a good mood when she held her hand during dinner, Hawke knew Meredith was in a great mood when she carried her to bed over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes, chuckling at Hawke’s rambunctious laughter. 

#06 – Rain  
Kirkwall had no real winter, only endless rain, and in those gloomy days Meredith’s red, glowing corpse wept.

#07 – Chocolate  
“I was given to understand you fled Ferelden smeared in chocolate?” Meredith asked once, clearly confused when Hawke burst out laughing – at least now Hawke knew Varric had updated his lies.

#08 – Happiness  
“Knight-Commander!” The Champion greeted her from the floor where she was playfully wrestling her dog, and for half an instant Meredith wanted nothing more than to be a common woman and be allowed the common happiness of coming home to her wife‘s smiling eyes and drooling pet.

#09 – Telephone  
Chief Stannard had to put some conscious effort in not gritting her teeth as her saucy informant left the precinct with a cheeky wink, but could not hold back the long suffering groan at the purple sticky note inside the intel file she’d just received – “Call me if you need anything” underlined twice “xoxo Hawke”.

#10 – Ears  
Hawke lived for victories, big and small, and pushing Meredith’s cowl back to brush her hair away and nibble at her ear for the first time counted as a big one.

#11 – Name  
Orsino called her Champion full of pride and relief to find in her a stout supporter; the guardsmen called her Serah Hawke with some deference as even though she was something of a troublemaker, she made their lives a lot easier; her friends called her Hawke, full of warmth, mischief and exasperation; but only Meredith said “Marian” in hushed, breathless whispers.

#12 – Sensual  
Meredith was objectively the least sensual person she knew, more steel than woman, but there was something in her eyes, the way they zeroed in on her whenever they entered the same room that always left Hawke’s ears pink.

#13 – Death  
The Knight-Commander was one of the very last to approach the recovering Champion in condolences for her mother, and when she did, she offered no comforting words, choosing instead a flooring hand shake and the sincere stare only two tragically orphaned girls could share.

#14 – Sex  
Everyone in Kirkwall seemed to agree the Champion was bedding the pirate whore, and all talk was about how often, how lewd, how they wanted to join in; what no one talked about was how the Knight-Commander’s jaw tensed and her fist clenched every time she caught word of that.

#15 – Touch  
“It’s alright you can touch him, he’ll do you no harm,” Hawke reassured her, petting the mabari thicker than herself, “Unless you try to take his stick, of course, then he’ll rip off your arm.”

#16 – Weakness  
Maybe it could work, Meredith would tell herself from time to time, in a moment of weakness; maybe Hawke was really extraordinary, maybe she would never fall prey to demons, maybe the Maker favored her, maybe she would listen, maybe, maybe, maybe, then she remembered that dead bodies spoke louder than abstract possibilities and tucked her longing away in a corner of her mind and returned to her paperwork.

#17 – Tears  
Meredith woke up grabbing her dagger instinctively, roused by Hawke’s screaming and the thud or her body hitting the floor, ready to fight off any demon possessing the mage, but no demon came forward, only the free flow of tears of the woman who tried to hide from her nightmares behind the shield of her lover’s arms.

#18 – Speed  
Cone of cold. Go Aveline! Break their faces! Firestorm. Keep attacking. They have to fall. Fireball. Oh, shit, hold on Fenris! Heal. Fireball. Andraste’s knickers, that must have hurt. Cone of cold. There, done. Shit, someone’s coming, hide the staff. “Hello, Knight-Commander, a lovely evening, isn’t it?“

#19 – Wind  
Meredith wore her hood since she first donned her armor, to keep her hair out of the way, she’d tell herself, to guard from the sun, to be less of a distraction for the men, and another half dozen perfectly valid reasons, all distracting herself from the fact that she’d forgotten the feeling of the wind running through it.

#20 – Freedom  
“Please, Meredith, don’t do this,” Hawke begged, heaved, drained of all her mana, struggling against the three Templars who dragged her to the Gallows. “I’m controlled, I swear, the demon didn’t touch me! Please! Hawks can’t live in cages, Meredith! Meredith! MEREDITH!”

#21 – Life  
Hawke lived more than anyone in Kirkwall. She gave gifts like Bethany gave her flower crowns when they were children, kissed all the kisses Carver complained not getting, went to all the parties her mother had missed after moving to Ferelden and fell in love exactly with the woman she couldn’t have, just like her father.

#22 – Jealousy  
The pirate made a show of draping herself all over her at the marketplace; the Dalish girl clung to her arm with both hands and unfailingly received a smile in any garden she’d invaded; the dwarf enveloped her waist and was enveloped around the shoulders in return as they sung a baldy song and walked unsteadily through Lowtown’s streets; the elf rested his head on hers and they drank quietly on her balcony; the redhead carried her like a sleeping bride back home; all those things Meredith saw from the corner of her eyes, from a window, from a distance and didn’t forgive them for having the liberty to do so nor herself for caring that they did.

#23 – Hands  
Meredith’s hands were rough from a life lived by the sword, Hawke’s had some old hard patches from farm work, but clasped together, their calluses fit well.

#24 – Taste  
Their first kiss tasted like wine and despair, the worry of making an awful mistake in a corner of the Viscount's library; when their mouths got to explore the rest, all kisses tasted like fire and salt, filled with urgency to consume the firm flesh uncovered in haste, exposed only to the candlelight and each other's gaze; at some point, their kisses tasted of bad breath and home, of waking up by their beloved in a bed sized kingdom of peace.

#25 – Devotion  
Meredith prayed like she was in love, confided it all to the Maker’s Bride, laid her heart bare and looked at her effigy with lit eyes, true and trusting; Hawke loved like a prayer, a constant giving of herself, meaningful and attentive to every need of the friends she chose for family, humble and honest.

#26 – Forever  
“Mari and Merry! Fighting crime and blood magic together forever! Or until one kills the other!”

#27 - Blood  
“You’re really handsome, you know?” Hawke would declare abruptly, and Meredith hated that she couldn’t beat the blood away from flooding her face.

#28 - Sickness  
Hawke felt sick every single time she faced the dead eyes of Meredith’s Tranquil assistant, and sicker still for knowing without a doubt that, despite everything, if needs must, Meredith would do the same to her.

#29 - Melody  
Sometimes Hawke sung the Chant of Light loudly in the morning and Meredith rewarded her with a proud, fond smile; little did she know Hawke only did that to make the song stick and listen to Meredith hum absentmindedly the rest of the day.

#30 - Star  
Meredith was like the sun, overwhelming, all seeing and larger than life, no one Hawke had ever been with, no self assured boy or starry eyed girl with could ever hope to compare.

#31 - Home  
They say home is where the heart is, and what pained Meredith the most was not being entirely sure if the Gallows were her home still.

#32 - Confusion  
“Holy shit, Varric, you seeing that? I’m so awesome Andraste is making me her champion...” Hawke slurred before collapsing from blood loss over the Arishok’s dead body, in front of the Knight-Commander’s feet.

33 - Fear  
The Inquisition members mumbled among themselves about the fearling’s appearances, and Hawke chose to make some bland comment about spiders, no need to mention that they glowed Meredith Red.

#34 - Lightning/Thunder  
Meredith confessed her feelings angrily, like an accusation, on an equally raging storm, hoping her words wouldn’t exist if the thunderclap muted them to the world.

#35 – Bonds  
The Knight-Commander paced her cramped office, legs as restless as her mind when faced with Hawke's offer, hands busy with the supple leather strap - they both knew Hawke could never lose control, for the sake of the two of them - but she, she knew better than anyone how one could find freedom in bindings.

#36 - Market  
Market days were the best days; Hawke would laugh at Varric's endless haggling, buy trinkets that made Merrill smile from ear to ear, tease Aveline's meticulous grocery shopping and, if she was lucky, catch Meredith in civilian clothes and dream of lifting that chantry-sister-look-alike skirt.

#37 - Technology  
Recently Meredith had started forgetting things, small things, where she’d left her hairpin or the wardrobe key, but she distinctly remembered she didn’t own a carved box on her bedside table, much less with a note “Get your things together, Merry, this ain’t the Ancient Age anymore”.

#38 - Gift  
"I supposed these were a gift for me," Meredith commented as Hawke ate a handful of berries from the basket she'd just set over her office desk. "Nah, much better," Hawke swallowed and planted a long berry sweet kiss on her mouth, and Meredith had to admit that it was better indeed.

#39 - Smile  
Every once in a while Hawke would visit the Chantry, if only to have the corners of Meredith's mouth turning up just for seeing her there.

#40 - Innocence  
Hawke's voice could be heard far in the Gallows, on the borderline between mocking and good natured, full of the naive confidence that she'd never fall prey of the horrors the Templars warded the world from, and Meredith's heart twinged in her chest; Maker, let her be right or strike her dead before we have to...

#41 - Completion  
After her first lapses of memory, Meredith started downgrading her lyrium intake - nothing too terribly drastic to render her useless to her duties - but even the mere sub dose was keenly felt as frost claimed her body and the gaping hole of lyrium absence made itself known, held at bay only by the warm sword in her hands and, in the rare night she managed to steal away, Hawke’s mere presence, tucked by her side and oblivious in sleep, banished the cold from her bones and filled the emptiness inside. 

#42 - Clouds  
“I assumed your head was in the clouds long enough for you to notice it was going to rain,” Meredith berated in her stern voice, whilst her hands retrieved her own cloak to place over Hawke’s shoulders, smoothing the wrinkles of the hood and nodding shortly in approval, and it took all her power for Hawke not to grin like an idiot while her friends pretended not to exist.

#43 – Sky  
Meredith worked relentlessly and was her most productive in the mornings, but some days when the light was right, she'd rest her pen and look out from the slit window of her office, watching the sky turn the exact same shade as Hawke's eyes.

#44 – Heaven  
The Chantry taught everyone about the Maker and when people died they went to be forever happy by His side and all that drill, and sometimes, when she was awake enough to watch Meredith unguarded in sleep, haloed by golden hair and firelight, Hawke thought she was pretty damn close to that.

#45 - Hell  
Even bloodied and battered, Hawke eyed Meredith's petrified form sadly, knowing that being bound to earth forever, banished from the Maker's sight was worse than Meredith’s darkest nightmare.

#46 – Sun  
I loved a lady as fair as summer, with sunlight in her hair, the song would say, and Hawke had half a mind to send a letter to the composer and inform them that the lady was also hot as a desert and had a temper like a living flame.

#47 – Moon  
Hid from the world, the two women whispered sweet lies to each other's skin, vows from the heart that lasted just as long as the moon witnessing them.

#48 – Waves  
Hawke had hated boats since she first stepped on one, loathed the very sight of the dingy ferry to the Gallows, but came to discover only one thing could make her hate boats more - knowing she'd never again be rewarded with a glimpse of waves of golden hair for all her trouble in braving the sea.

#49 – Hair  
Hawke's hair was raven black, always windswept like the wild thing she was, and Meredith could only imagine running her hands through feathery strands and tilting her head up for a kiss.

#50 – Supernova  
Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter, Meredith prayed silently while the world blurred through a haze of red; blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just, she kept on, fighting through the fire beneath her skin; blessed are the righteous, the lights in the shadow, she tried to focus, while breathing and standing took ever more effort; in their blood the Maker's will... Her own screeching cut through her thoughts as a blinding light overcame her, her blood drying to stone in her veins, and Meredith was no more.


End file.
